


Worth the Risk

by catsmeow79



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-17
Updated: 2010-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsmeow79/pseuds/catsmeow79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, it couldn't just end between Face & Charisa on the docks, now could it?  Face/Charisa just a little drabble post-movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Risk

The sharp metallic click seemed to echo loudly down the silent hallway as her key turned in the deadbolt. It was well after 2am and no one else in her apartment building was awake at this hour, not even the doorman whom she had passed napping in the lobby on her way up. Charisa wished that _**she**_ wasn't awake, but today had been another long day in a string of long days.

 

On most days she loved her job - - loved the power and the excitement of playing with the big boys, making a difference in the world, making it a safer place for democracy. But right now, all she wanted to love was her pillow.

 

Pushing the heavy door open with her hip, she entered her apartment quickly, not even bothering to turn on the lights as she shrugged out of her suit coat and tossed it casually across the back of the sofa as she passed. Having to wear uncomfortable business attire was her least favorite part of working for Director McCready, a man who believed that appearance was everything. Charisa always took her suits off as soon as possible. Kicking off her heels one at a time, she padded barefoot across the carpet and toward the kitchen.

 

Sighing, she paused briefly as she neared the dining room table, the stack of unopened mail taunting her as it seemed to grow taller each time she looked at it. She had made a lot of sacrifices for her career over the years, never having enough time for both a personal and a professional life. Charisa exhaled, kneading her temples with both hands - - her bills would have to wait another day, right now she desperately needed a cold beer and a few hours of sleep.

 

Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Charisa could sense it from behind her, another presence in the darkness of her apartment. No longer sleepy, her adrenaline kicked in, every nerve ending in her body wide-awake. Turning quickly, gun drawn, she found the most perfect smile she had ever seen, gleaming back at her.

 

"Don't shoot me, Captain" he requested, hands raised in submission as he stepped out of the shadows, the moonlight illuminating his silhouette.

 

"Jesus" she exclaimed, releasing the breath he had startled into holding. It had been nearly six months, and he looked exactly as she'd remembered him from the docks - bronze skin, easy smile, hint of stubble shading his chin - he looked good. How he managed to find a tanning bed no matter where in the world he was, truly amazed her. "What are you doing here, Face?"

 

"I was just in the neighborhood" he answered casually "Thought I'd stop by and say hi"

 

"Are you crazy?" She squeaked in exasperation, he could be the most reckless and infuriating man "All four branches of the military and the department of defense are looking for you"

 

"And you're the lucky one who found me" he flirted, taking another step forward, his eyes twinkling.

 

"I wonder how large a promotion they'd give me for arresting you this time" she mused, raising her eyebrows in his direction as she kept her gun leveled at his chest.

 

If he felt threatened, Face didn't let on, instead allowing his hands to drop to his side as he approached "Charisa . . ." he whispered, his tongue caressing the letters of her name sensually.

 

"It was a mistake for you to come here" she insisted, her eyes darting around the apartment carefully.

 

". . . You're still pointing your gun at me" he observed, as casual as if he were commenting on her new upholstery.

 

"The CIA has had me under surveillance - - my movements were monitored, my phones were tapped" she continued.

 

"Oh, you know the company - - attention span of kindergartners" Face smirked knowingly "They finally gave up on us making contact and lifted surveillance last week" he informed her, taking another casual step forward.

 

"I know that's what the director _**said**_" Charisa allowed hesitantly "You're sure about it?"

 

"I've been waiting here for two hours" Peck confessed, standing so close now that the muzzle of her gun was pressed against his chest.

 

Charisa could feel herself being drawn into his gaze. His eyes never leaving hers as he spoke, he completely ignored the cool metal that threatened to end him.

 

"I swept the place for bugs and cameras . . ." he relayed. Leaning in even closer, allowing his breath to tickle against her cheek as he spoke directly into her ear ". . . . Nada" he whispered.

 

"Okay" Charisa shrugged casually, dropping the pretense of arresting him and stepping quickly backward and away from his reach as she set her gun on the table, before walking into the kitchen.

 

Face couldn't help smiling to himself, even though he nearly toppled forward as she left him in the lurch. No one played the game as well as she did. From the moment he'd met her, he'd known she was different than the women who had come before her. Charisa was his match, she was his equal, a never-ending challenge.

 

She returned a moment later with two bottles of Yeungling, and Face swallowed hard at the sight - - barefoot, wearing a pencil skirt and silk blouse with a provocative v-neck, her hair having fallen from it's clip, stray tendrils dancing across her face as she moved, holding two longnecks - - she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

 

Charisa handed him one of the bottles, walking over toward the wall to flip on the living room light, leaving him to appreciate the view of her departure. When she turned around, she appraised him with a critical eye "Bugs or not, coming here was still a dangerous thing to do".

 

"I've always had more beauty than brains" he offered, taking a drink from his bottle.

 

Charisa knew that wasn't true - - Face was the total package, always had been. He would never have survived so long in this business if he wasn't at least part-crazy like Murdock, part-brainy like Smith, and part-strong like Baracus. But the Faceman was also uniquely himself, charming, flirtatious and completely unrivaled in his ability to read a mark. She wondered if he could read her now.

 

"Does Smith know you're here?" She inquired, leaning against the wall as she sipped her beer "Somehow, I doubt he'd approve"

 

"Hannibal isn't my social secretary" he quipped jovially, closing the distance between them as he walked toward her.

 

"No, I'm sure no one is up to _**that**_ task" Charisa allowed, pushing off the wall and moving to stand behind the couch before Face could get **too** close for comfort "but he **is** your commanding officer"

 

"Not anymore" Face reminded her, hiding a brief flash of betrayal behind his beer as he took another swallow "we're just private citizens now, convicts, actually"

 

"I'm really sorry about that" Charisa replied genuinely, her face softening momentarily. It was so hard to keep him at arm's length, even when she knew it would be safer for both of them that way.

 

"It wasn't your fault" he assured her "You saved us in LA, I came here to deliver a long overdue 'thanks'" he explained, remembering his logical reason for coming to visit.

 

"Locking the four of you up again would have been a miscarriage of justice" she justified "I couldn't let that happen, not on my watch."

 

"You took a huge risk by slipping me that key, and I appreciate it" he replied, trying to read beneath the poker face that she was so good at projecting to the outside world._ Maybe he shouldn't have come_? "We all do" he finished lamely, his trademark confidence faltering for an instant.

 

"Face, it doesn't mean anything more than that" she cautioned, staying clear on the other side of the room, as if the physical distance between them could protect her from his piercing gaze.

 

He had been right at the train station, when he'd called her on running away from him, from the strength of her feelings for him, that is what she had done three years ago. Back then, he had started looking at her like he could see inside her soul, like he wanted her to see inside his, and Charisa hadn't been ready to let anyone that deep.

 

"I know" he replied, walking over to the bookshelf where several framed photographs sat.

 

Charisa's father had been a war hero. She had never talked about him, so Face had used some of his contacts to get the inside story - - the man was a legend in covert ops, he had been at the center of literally hundreds of successful missions during his illustrious career. And one day, when Charisa was twelve, he had vanished in the Saudi desert during a mission and no one had seen or heard from him again.

 

"It's been a really long day" she stated suddenly, realizing the situation became more dangerous the longer he lingered. Setting her beer bottle on the table, she began walking toward the door.

 

He needed to go, she needed for him to leave right now. Because, at the train station, when Face had admitted that he had been getting serious about her three years ago, it had caused her heart to leap and her pulse to pound in a way that she wasn't comfortable with, a way she didn't want, especially not with him, a man who would disappear one day and never return.

 

Charisa looked back to see if he was following, but he remained motionless beside the bookshelf, watching her. Damn him, he was doing it again right now, looking at her with such intensity, telling her without words that he had risked this dangerous trip to Washington for _**her**_.

 

When she refused to meet his gaze, Face reluctantly set his own bottle on the bookcase, following her down the hallway. Whenever things got "real" between them, Charisa always managed to push him away, she was trying to do it again right now. He had always wondered what he'd done wrong, or had she left him simply because he reminded her of her father? It had occurred to him (_rather belatedly, and after numerous nights of broken-hearted drinking_) that perhaps Charisa expected him not to come home one day and she was simply beating him to the punch by disappearing herself.

 

"I'm glad the four of you are alright" she said, turning to face him as her hand gripped the doorknob.

 

Face was directly behind her, much closer than he needed to be, with only a hairsbreadth separating them, and when she turned, she found herself pressed back against the door by his proximity. Her heart thundered in her chest and her pulse pounded.

 

Face froze her in place with his body, she wouldn't have the opportunity to run this time. In the narrow entryway, she would have to push past him to escape and he wouldn't let her avoid this conversation, not this time, she was going to hear him out.

 

"I miss you Charisa" he admitted, laying it all on the line "I came here because I needed to see you"

 

"Face . ." she started to protest, but he was so close that he was almost touching her now and she found she couldn't breathe, much less speak.

 

"I have missed you for three years" he confessed, looking her squarely in the eye, no flirting, no manipulation.

 

"Don't . . ." she started, trailing off as his fingertips moved up to brush her lips gently, silencing her. It was the first time he'd touched her in way, **way** too long and she could barely hear her own thoughts above the blood rushing through her veins.

 

"I know that it was crazy to come here" he conceded, shrugging his shoulders "But it was worth the risk because I couldn't stand the thought of missing you for another three years"

 

Charisa tried to think rationally, there were a thousand reasons why this was a bad idea. "Templeton . . ." she warned, starting to protest, but she had made a tactical error, she had used his first name.

 

It was such an intimate thing to do. No one ever called him that but her, and completely undone, he leaned forward swiftly, closing the last remaining millimeters between them as he pressed his lips to hers.

 

Charisa gasped, the electricity between them so powerful that it would have knocked her off her feet if not for the door. This kiss was different than the one on the docks, that one had been utilitarian, this one was all passion and need and . . . love. It had been too long since Face had really kissed her, maybe he never had before? The room was spinning and she felt like she was flying.

 

Face reached his hand behind her neck, pulling her closer, changing the angle so he could slip his tongue past her lips, sweeping inside to taste her mouth, she was like a drug and it had been far too long since he'd gotten high.

 

Charisa had given up arguing with him, finally giving in to the feelings she had been trying desperately to deny. She pulled him closer, her fingers fisting in the lapels of his jacket as she tried to erase any space between them.

 

Face obliged. Rocking against her, he pinned her against the wall with his weight, every inch of their bodies connected as he continued to plunder her mouth, rekindling a flame between them that had never died.

 

 

 

"I knew you'd come back" he murmured several hours later, as they lay tangled in the sheets together.

 

Under normal circumstances, Charisa hated to be predictable, but Face had always managed to see beneath her defenses, and right now, she was really glad that he hadn't taken "no" for an answer tonight. She sighed contentedly, listening to the steady beat of his heart as her head rested on his chest.

 

"_**How**_ did you know?" She couldn't resist asking, propping her chin on his chest to meet his gaze.

 

"That's easy" he laughed, his eyes dancing as he nodded in the direction of the stereo "You kept my Steely Dan CD"

 

 

**The End**


End file.
